Happy Birthday Hell
by Anaki Starsong
Summary: It's Quatre's Birthday but he isn't feeling very well. Can Trowa doctor him up and save this birthday? 3x4 Fluff


**Happy Birthday Hell**

"Happy Birthday to y-"

"Finish that," Quatre glared at Trowa who quickly shut up but couldn't hide his smirk, "and I'll make sure Heero finds out who _really_ told Duo he masturbated to naked pics that the braided idiot put on craigslist as a 'joke'."

"Well what would you have me do?" Trowa cooed as he walked to help Quatre to the couch but was waived off with an annoyed glance from his blond lover.

"Find the cure to this shit," Quatre slowly lowered himself onto the couch clutching his stomach and wincing as another gurgling noise emanated from his innards.

Trowa looked at Quatre with sympathy. His poor love had come home from working a double shift at the hotel feeling worse than when he'd left the night before. Trowa hadn't been too happy that Quatre agreed to work a double on his birthday but the blond was stubborn and kept reminding the emerald eyed man it was 'just another day'. When the blond had practically stumbled through the door at 2pm after the 16 hour shift, Trowa was adamant he go straight to bed but Quatre reminded him of the concert they had that evening with the local community band. Trowa had nearly gone mad with worry sitting through the concert watching Quatre grow paler and paler.

Trowa sat with the rest of the flutes and, since there were no strings in this band, Quatre had taken up the clarinet citing that they both required agile fingers and he had made enough progress to play second part and sit right across from his lover. When the concert was over Trowa rushed Quatre home and the blond dove headlong into the bathroom and didn't emerge for at least an hour while a very nervous Trowa paced the living room.

Quatre on the other hand had been quite thankful Trowa didn't knock on the door every five minutes. He could hardly stand the sounds and _stuff_ coming out of him and he'd have been mortified if anyone else could see, hear, or smell it. His intestines were doing flips and Quatre was ready for that part to go away. On top of all of that, his sinuses had decided that today was the perfect day to start draining so on top of being stuck in the bathroom he was blowing clear gunk out of his head.

"This is the worst birthday ever," Quatre moaned from the couch, curling protectively around his stomach, "Thank Allah I planned my party for 2 weeks from now instead of on the day of. Somehow I must have subconsciously known…"

"A month and a half ago?" Trowa chuckled, sitting on the arm of the couch and gently stroking Quatre's hair.

"Weirder things have happened," the blond closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, "you better stop or you'll get what I have."

"It'll happen anyways, we both know that," Trowa wasn't looking forward to the inevitable but why worry about what you knew was coming?

"At least let me try and salvage this birthday," Trowa quickly got up off the arm of the couch and disappeared into the other room.

Lacking energy to move his head or even open his eyes, Quatre listened in a haze as Trowa seemingly ran around the apartment they shared, making weird noises, opening and closing cabinets, shuffling things, until the emerald eyed man reappeared in front of him.

"Here," Trowa handed Quatre things as he listed them, "Some nice cold orange juice to help boost your immune system. Allergy pills and anti-diarrhea medicine. And your favorite blanket."

Quatre smiled thankfully as he swallowed down the pills with the deliciously cold orange juice then gratefully accepted the worn, tattered piece of blue cloth that had graced his bed since he was a baby. Trowa picked him up slightly and sat on the couch before resting Quatre's head in his lap and tucking in the worn blanket around his blond lover, topping it all off with a soft kiss to his golden locks before gently stroking his hair again.

"Mmm," Quatre moaned as he relaxed into Trowa's thigh, his smell and warmth clearing the blonds head and setting him at peace as the fast acting medication took hold begging him to sleep, "Maybe this isn't the worst birthday after all."

Trowa smiled and softly hummed 'Happy Birthday' in a soothing Baritone while he stroked his lover's hair.

A/N: Where is my Trowa? It's my birthday (My 25th to be exact) and I'm working a double, have a concert, and have both allergies and my belly is doing flips . I need a Trowa to come and save _my_ birthday!


End file.
